


smile

by buries



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Drabble, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-01
Updated: 2016-02-01
Packaged: 2018-05-17 13:35:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5871595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buries/pseuds/buries
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>stop smiling.</i> or the one where raven worries the universe may implode because bellamy can smile.</p>
            </blockquote>





	smile

**Author's Note:**

> this was originally posted [here](http://finnicks.tumblr.com/post/138369507997/for-the-fic-meme-ravenbellamy-40-have-i). written for a drabble prompt thing for lostemotion @ tumblr who requested “have i entered an alternate universe or did you really just crack a smile for me?” this can work as an established relationship or not.
> 
> unbeta'd, all mistakes are mine. ♥

Raven thinks there’s something funny in the water.

“— We can totally turn up the volume if I do that.” She narrows her eyes and looks at him with a frown. Bellamy, for once, doesn’t notice. She’d even paused between her words, let her voice die away with what she knows he’d read as uncertainty.

He’s still looking over the sketches she’d spent hours trying to perfect. She isn’t an artist, but when it comes to convincing Bellamy of a change they need to make, she wants her presentation to be as accurate and convincing as possible.

Holding the three papers up to his nose, she suspects the tip brushes against it.

“And maybe have it blast our clothes off if I can get it to reach a certain frequency.”

Still, he doesn’t shift to look at her. Raven, feeling slightly put out, leans over her workbench to flick the papers.

Looking up at her in surprise, she notices the corners of his mouth. Tipped upward. It’s a sight she’s seen more and more this week. They’ve gotten a whole tank of water recently, down from a river nearby that Monty believes they’ve figured out how to dilute and make safe enough to drink from.

She mumbles, “Something is off with it.”

He looks at her quizzically. “What?”

Raven narrows her eyes at him. Her voice is louder when she says, “Is this some alternate universe?” He continues to look confused. Good, she thinks. He deserves to feel as lost as she does right now. “That’s the seventh time you’ve smiled.”

He smiles again, except in incredulousness. Or bemusement. She isn’t so sure. This whole smiling thing had thrown her off-kilter when it comes to reading him. And to think, she’d only just received her badge for reading Bellamy Blake like there’s no tomorrow.

“Eighth.”

He laughs, “What?” Placing her papers down, she notes it’s with care. “It’s wrong?”

“Yes,” she says. He laughs again, shaking his head. “You really did just crack a smile for me.”

He looks at her as though she’s that dog with the several heads. That’s when this all started. When she remembered that mutt’s name.

“I didn’t —”

“Then stop smiling.”

“I’m allowed to smile.” And as if to prove his point, he pulls his mouth into a fake, big smile. She bites the corners of her own so she’s not mirroring him.

“No, you’re not.” She leans forward to tap his cheek. “Stop.”

He pulls back for a moment, then laughs, “No.”

“Yes.” She leans forward to press her fingers against the corner of his mouth to drag it down. He moves, and she finds she pokes him hard in the cheek.

“Ow,” he says, pulling back.

“I didn’t even hurt you,” she says. Leaning forward, she brushes her fingers against his cheek. Staying still, she moves to brush them against his mouth. Leaving them to linger there, she lets her fingers trace his lips. Quietly, she commands, “Stop. That’s the tenth time.”

“Stop counting,” he says. He doesn’t move his face away from her hand. She can feel the words reverberate through her arm. It’s better than how the music feels pounding through the rover.

Narrowing her eyes, she says, “No.” 

_Eleventh_ , she thinks.

Bellamy folds his fingers over her own, moving her hand away from his cheek. Looking at her fingers like they’re her sketches, she feels him trace the skin of them lightly. “And it was the twelfth. You missed one.”


End file.
